Run, Runaway
by GreyJedi
Summary: Kras city, big, foreign... It seems like the perfect place for a disgruntled Haven teenager to take refuge, or is it? Things that seem too good to be true often are. 2nd generation fic, canon characters to come later.
1. Chapter 1

Right, so this is just a fic that I randomly started way back in February. I don't know how consistently it'll be updated, but that'll be a bridge I cross later. Just in case anyone missed it, this is a 2nd generation fic, meaning there are a LOT of OCs. Canon characters will show up in a while, I promise, but not for a bit yet. I was going to hold off on posting this story for a while, but since I've done so little recently, I figured I'd start it up and see what happens.  
Sorry for the cruddy summary, but I'm tired. I'll come up with a better one later

This is the first time I've worked with Atin for about two years, as he was forbidden to me by my fellow author D26. (Best not get into it, you're here for the story, not my comments - I hope.) Long story short though, he's always been a favourite character of mine, but I let him suffer a lot at the hands of D26 (again, not getting into it) and I suppose, in a way, I'm making it up to him here.

Almost all characters even _mentioned_ in this chapter are mine, except Rayn and Mizo, they are Naughty Dog's.

* * *

Atin inhaled sharply as he stepped off the boat and onto the docks of Kras. Sure, he'd heard all about the place, but nothing had prepared him for the real thing. He sucked on his lip ring and readjusted his backpack over one shoulder.

He grinned and walked further up the dock. This place was so different from home. There weren't Freedom League guards all over the streets; it was both reassuring and completely terrifying.

He knew he was gawking horribly, but it was just so...foreign. Perfect. Kras was already everything he'd hoped it would be. Excitement burned in his chest and, shooting a last look at the boat he'd come from, he set off down the dock.

After going a short way, Atin stopped and rummaged around in the pockets of his cargo pants. He pulled out a piece of paper and smoothed the wrinkles from it. The lettering was faded and hard to read, as though it had gone through the wash at least once. He squinted at the words before pocketing it again. Now he knew where he was going. How was he supposed to get there? The idea of taking a cab – provided he could find one – was unappealing after spending so long on the boat. It seemed like walking was his best bet. How far away could it be?

As things turned out, it could be _very_ far, further than walking from the bazaar to the slums and down to the port back in Haven. It almost made him regret going on foot, but at the same time he got a better feel for the city than any other mode of transport would have allowed.

He'd lost count of the number of bars he'd passed, not that it bothered him in the slightest. He arrived at a street corner and consulted the piece of paper again. Atin looked up at the street sign, squinting at the weathered words. Right. He smirked and set off, wondering what reaction he'd get to showing up, hopefully it'd be good.

Moments later he stood in front of the door and referred to his paper again. It wasn't that he couldn't charm himself out of any awkward situation, but he'd rather not have to resort to it. Trying to look self assured, Atin rang the doorbell.

The door creaked as it was opened by a girl a few years younger than him. She peered at him without recognition. "Yes?"

He couldn't stop the grin that came at the sight of a girl, "Rodas here?" he asked.

"Sure, just a second." She turned away and called back into the house, "Rodas! Door!"

There was a clatter that sounded suspiciously like something was getting put hastily away and moments later a boy had appeared, pushing the girl out of the way. His face split into a grin the moment he laid eyes on Atin. "Hey, dude. Long time no see." He glanced over his shoulder, "Lise, shoo."

The girl stuck her tongue out at him and stalked away, nose in the air.

Rodas gave Atin a friendly punch on the arm and opened the door wider to admit him. "I know I told you to drop by anytime you were in town, but I figured, you know, you'd _tell_ me first."

Atin laughed. "I didn't know. It was kinda a spur of the moment, you know?"

The darker skinned of the two teenagers looked confused. "No, actually."

"Oh." Atin shrugged, "Whatever." He flicked his head in the direction the girl had gone, "Was that your sister?"

If Rodas was confused by the sudden change of topic, it didn't show. "Lise? Yeah, why?"

"Just wondering. She's hot."

"Sick, dude, sick," Rodas said, shaking his head.

Atin shrugged again.

"So, what brings you to Kras?"

Atin's expression fell slightly, as though he'd been hoping that particular question wasn't about to be asked. "Honestly? I got kicked out."

"I thought you were getting along better with your parents."

Atin snorted. "Yeah right. Dad eased up for a bit, but he's still a total hard-ass. Figured I'd stay away for a while. Out of city, you know?"

Again Rodas shook his head, "Still don't know the feeling, but hey, things are different for me."

Atin grinned. "Well, I'm glad you can understand. Or try to. That's more than anyone in Haven does." He looked around the house for a few moments. It was nice. Homey, like it had some sort of welcoming factor that his home in Haven was severely lacking in.

"Nice place," he said at last.

Rodas shrugged. "It's not much, but it's home." There was a moment where Rodas appeared to wrestle with himself before asking, "You wanna crash here for a while?"

"Sure. If I'm not going to be a pain or anything," Atin said, trying not to let his relief show. He hadn't actually planned what he was going to do if Rodas had turned him away. His friend's hesitation, however, had not been lost on him.

"Nah, you won't be. Don't worry about it. Just..." he bit his lip, looking suddenly nervous.

"Just?"

"Look, your rep's made it out here before you, so... If you're going to stay here, keep your hands off my sister, and don't bring girls back with you. Mom will kill both of us."

Atin couldn't help looking a little taken aback at this comment.

"Don't try playing innocent, _everyone_ here has heard about your little nightly escapades. So I'm just giving you the heads up, if you're staying here, there's _none_ of that going on."

Atin put his hands up defensively, "God, I haven't even done anything yet. Let me at least screw up before you start harassing me." He sighed and wrapped one of the chains hanging from his belt loops around his fingers.

"Alright, alright, sorry."

"Don't bother." He sighed. He should've known that his behaviour would be known here. It was pretty well impossible, being who he was. He shot a quick, dark look at Rodas and another tense moment passed between the pair of them.

"Do your parents know you're here?"

Atin snorted. "_That_ would be rather counterproductive to the action of running away, wouldn't you say? The whole point is so my parents _don't_ know where I am." He looked around the interior of the house again. "Course I don't think it'll take a lot of brain power for Dad to figure out where I've gone." His following grin was sheepish and looked quite out of place. "He _knows_ I can't stay away from cars."

"Or girls..." Rodas muttered.

Atin glared and punched him in the shoulder. Hard. "Next time it's your face. If I've got to play the 'good boy' while I'm here, you cannot say stuff like that." His blue eyes narrowed and glared in to Rodas's grey ones.

Rodas massaged his shoulder, looking displeased. "If it bugs you that much, why the hell do you do it in the first place?"

Atin shrugged. "Lets me forget about stuff. They don't complain either. Let's stop discussing it, shall we?"

"Whatever you say, tackle box."

"_What_ did you just call me?"

"Tackle box," Rodas said, reaching out and tugging Atin's right ear for emphasis, "Looks like you fell headfirst into one."

Atin shoved him playfully. "Come off it."

"No, I don't think I will," Rodas said, grinning. "C'mon. I'll show you the guest room." He turned, and without checking that his friend was following, headed to the stairs.

Atin shrugged and followed him. Guest room, huh? He'd been expecting the couch, if anything.

* * *

Rodas waited by the door while Atin unpacked – unpacked being the loose term applied to the upending of his backpack over the bed. "So what do you think of Kras so far?"

The pale teen shrugged. "Different. Not like home. Seems a load easier to get away with stuff here."

Rodas cocked his head, asking, "How so?"

"There's not guards all over the place."

"What'd you expect? It's a gang town, which, while you're here, you'll want to be careful of."

Atin waved him off. "I'm not stupid – contrary to popular belief." He shrugged. "I've heard the horror stories from my dad, he's visited."

Rodas appeared to consider this statement. "Back when Mizo was dethroned... He helped that, didn't he?"

Atin shrugged nonchalantly. "You could say that."

"Dude... What are the odds that _your_ dad would have a hand in shaping the history of _my_ home city?"

"Pretty good, I guess. It's not that amazing, he did a lot back home too," Atin said, zipping up his backpack and throwing it to the side with a great deal more force than was necessary. "That's all past stuff though, right? What matters is the now."

Rodas looked at Atin quizzically. "You okay?"

"What? Oh yeah, sure. Fine. Why?"

"Cause you look pissed."

"Well, I'm fine. F-I-N-E." Atin smoothed out his shirt and sat on the bed. He shot a look at Rodas, plainly daring him to try and continue the thread of conversation.

A tense moment passed between them before Rodas shrugged and said, "So, you're here, you probably want to see some of the sights, huh?"

Atin grinned at him. "Dude, it's like you read my mind."

* * *

Rodas seemed on edge almost the moment they'd walked out the door, but as to why, Atin wasn't quite sure. He decided to push the matter from his mind and soon found other things to dwell on – like the fact that he was getting stared at by people on the street. They weren't even particularly subtle about it.

"Hey, Rod?" Atin asked after his annoyance about the funny looks was getting too hard to ignore.

"Mm?"

"What's up with everyone?"

It was another moment where Rodas appeared to grapple with conflicting feelings before he managed to answer. "Give me your hand," he said, extending one of his.

Atin recoiled slightly. "Why?" he demanded.

"Just do it, okay?"

His pierced eyebrow raised sceptically, Atin placed his hand gingerly in Rodas's as though afraid it was some form of complex trap. The other boy raised their linked hands to Atin's eye level.

"Tell me what the difference is."

"What?"

He gave Atin's arm a little shake for emphasis. "What's the main difference here?"

Atin blinked, looking at him without comprehension. "Um... Is this a trick question?"

"No. Just tell me. What's the difference?"

Looking more dumbfounded than ever, Atin ventured a tentative guess. "You...have cleaner fingernails than I do?"

"No! _Skin tone_. I'm _tanned_. _You_ are like a walking corpse. You're pure _white._"

"How the hell does that make a difference?"

Rodas sighed and released Atin's hand. "In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't. But it makes you stick out. All it takes is one look to tell that you're not from around here."

"And that's a problem?"

The Kras teenager shrugged. "It could be."

"How so?"

Rodas shrugged again. "Dunno. Just...Keep it in mind. You stick out."

Atin nodded slowly. "Consider it noted. Is there any particular reason for it?"

Again, Rodas shrugged. "Let's just say, foreigners aren't exactly...welcome...around here. Haveners in particular. No offense, but the last time your lot stuck your noses in our business, things got messed up _bad_."

Atin cocked his head to the side. "And that will somehow come back around to be _my_ fault? Way to hold a grudge, dude."

Rodas ran a hand back through his floppy strip of hair. "It's not _me_; it's just Kras in general. Throwing Mizo out of power was, well, rough on us – apparently." For a fleeting moment, he looked like there was something else he was going to say, but thought better of it.

"So, let me get this straight. I'm potentially in trouble because of something that happened nearly two and a half decades ago?"

"Pretty much."

Atin gave his head a shake of dismay. "That's nuts."

Rodas shrugged. "It is what it is. How long has Spargus had problems with Haven?"

The paler boy blinked, cocked his head slightly and said, "No idea."

"You see my point."

"No, not really. But for the sake of you shutting up about it, I'll pretend I do."

Rodas cuffed him lightly on the back of the head. "You're an idiot."

"What else is new?"

The shorter boy laughed and punched Atin lightly on the shoulder. "You're so weird sometimes." He glanced at his watch. "C'mon, we should get back. Mom'll have dinner ready soon. Hope you like spicy stuff."

Atin's eyes lit up in an instant. "Are yakows fat and lazy? I _love _hot food!"

Rodas slung an arm around his friend's shoulders, grinning broadly. "What d'ya know? There's hope for you yet."

* * *

BTW: If at ANY point a 'J' mysteriously makes it's way into Atin's name, please mention it. Seriously.

And his parentage is remaining...undisclosed...for the moment. Any guesses as to whose brat he is are most welcome though. ;P


	2. Chapter 2

I'm supposed to be doing my homework so I can play Fire Emblem, but for whatever reason I decided that finishing this chapter would be a better use of my time. After this, it's homework time. I WANT TO PLAY FIRE EMBLEM, DAMMIT.

And since no one really cares about what I'm doing with my life right now, I'll just get right to it.

All characters in this chapter are mine. Um...the locations of Kras and Haven belong to Naughty Dog...?

* * *

"Oh, dude..." Atin said, grinning broadly as he ran his hand down the side of the car. "This thing is _beautiful_," he murmured.

Rodas leaned casually against the hood and shrugged, "I guess."

Atin stared at him. "You guess? You _guess_?" he spluttered, "Have you _looked_ at this thing?"

Rodas rolled his eyes. "Duh. It's my dad's. I've _driven_ it."

Atin shot to his feet, and appeared almost nose to nose with Rodas near instantly. "Really? What's it handle like? Taken it on the track?"

The dark teen clambered further onto the hood, distancing himself from Atin. "Cursers, man, you're obsessed." He sighed, shook his hair out of his eyes and said, "Yes. Alright, I guess, and heck no."

"Why not?" Atin demanded, leaning forward eagerly.

Rodas put his foot in the middle of Atin's chest and pushed him gingerly away, leaving a grey boot print on his shirt. "Dial it back."

"But why haven't you tried it?"

"Cause I don't race."

"But you live in _Kras_, that's like blasphemy, isn't it?"

"That's like saying you're from Haven, so you _must_ be in the military."

Atin pulled a disgusted face.

"Don't look at me like that. You're not an army boy, I'm not a racer. Simple as that. Don't generalize."

"Whatever. I'd rather die than get stuck in the military trap."

"Or run off at the very least..." Rodas muttered under his breath.

Atin's eyes narrowed. "What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing."

It appeared that Atin was unable to focus on being irritated with Rodas, not while there was a vehicle nearby to distract him. He gave his head a quick shake and looked at the hood of the car. "Off."

"What?"

"Get off."

Rodas contemplated the order for a second and slipped off the car. "You want the hood up?"

Atin's look answered for him. The dark skinned teen rolled his eyes and went around to the side of the vehicle to pop the hood. "Don't dick around with it, alright? Dad'll have my head if I let you mess around with his car."

"I won't touch anything. I'm just going to look."

Rodas sighed. "Famous last words..." He straightened and walked back to where Atin stood. The pale boy quickly lifted the hood and began to examine the engine. He didn't even look up when Rodas picked up the nearby toolbox and carried it to the nearest shelf.

Atin muttered to himself as he pored over the engine, running his fingers lightly over the various components.

Rodas watched him for a few minutes before wandering around the garage, coat swishing around him. The door joining the garage to the house opened and a figure peered in.

"Hey idiot!"

Both boys jumped at the shout. There was a bang and Atin hunched over, clutching his head where he'd inadvertently slammed it into the hood of the car. Rodas looked at the door in mild interest.

"She meant me, Atin."

"Oh shut it," the Haven teen muttered, rubbing his head.

"Mom wants you in the kitchen. Says it's your turn for dishes." Lise told her brother, pointedly ignoring Atin.

Rodas sighed. "Great... Tell her I'll be in in a sec."

"Fine." She turned away, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "You boys and your need to play with things..."

The shorter boy walked over to Atin. "Looked enough?"

"What? No way."

"Yes way. I've got to do dishes."

Atin's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Why does that mean that I can't keep looking?"

Rodas clapped him on the shoulder. "Dad's rule. No offense, but you're just not allowed to be looking at his car without supervision. He's touchy, you know?"

The Haven teen sighed and closed the hood reluctantly. "Fine."

"Right, well... Dish time," Rodas said, starting towards the door while Atin brushed off the front of his shirt.

"Dude, didn't your mom already _do_ the dishes?" Atin asked, following his friend.

"Um..._yeah_, but in this house, 'doing the dishes' means something else entirely. I'm getting lectured."

"This is because of me, isn't it?"

Rodas shrugged. "To be honest, probably. Usually Lise is the one getting the talks."

"Sorry, man."

"Don't be. She's probably just clarifying rules for me to tell you and stuff. Nothin' big."

"So I _won't_ have to go pack up right away?"

Rodas slapped Atin on the back. "Quit worrying so much. I won't let Mom throw you out on your ass. Not without warning anyway." He laughed then cringed when Atin's fist connected with his bicep.

"Jerk."

Rodas rubbed his arm irritably. "_You're_ the jerk." He and Atin glared at each other for a moment before Rodas shoved him away and walked into the house.

Shooting a last longing look at the car, Atin followed suit.

* * *

While Rodas spoke with his parents, Atin headed up to the guest room and flopped down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Everywhere he went he managed to cause problems.

"Missing your girls, man whore?"

Atin glanced over at the door, where Lise was standing, arms crossed over her chest. His blue eyes narrowed and he raised his hand, middle finger lifted. Why this girl seemed to hate him so much was a mystery, but it was certainly a pain.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,' then, shall I?"

"Go away."

"Don't tell me what to do in my own home, playboy."

He glared at her and shot to his feet, stalking over. The index finger of his right hand pointed straight at her nose. "Listen, twerp, I don't know what makes you think you can be a pain in the ass, but you can just stop it."

Lise blinked at him, smacked his hand away and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "You say that now, but mark my words, Haven; I'll make sure you're evicted. Just watch." Smirking, she turned and walked away down the hall towards her room.

Atin closed the door muttering, "Little bitch," and returned to the bed. He hadn't even done anything and already it seemed like he'd be finding a new place to live rather quickly.

He glanced abruptly down at his leg, a beeping coming from one of his many pockets. He chewed his lip in contemplation for a moment before pulling out his cell and looking the number. Ranovla.

The phone continued to beep and vibrate in his hand, flashing the number over and over on the screen. Two more rings and it would go to voicemail. Did he dare answer? One more ring.

He flipped it open and said, "Allo?"

"You little pain in the neck, where are you?"

Atin sighed. "You know I won't tell you. But I'm safe. I promise."

"Atin!"

"Ran, please...Trust me. I know what I'm doing this time, really."

There was a prolonged pause from the other end of the phone. "I hate it when you do this."

"I know, Ran, I'm sorry."

"You'd better be. You _promised_ last time would be it."

Atin got up and paced around the room. "I hoped it would be. Ranni..."

"No. Don't 'Ranni' me. I don't want to hear it again. Atin, I'm tired of this. It's the same thing, over and over..."

"I'm sorry." He sighed and ran a hand back through his hair messing it up and giving it a cow-licked look.

"I know, I know..." there was a sigh, "Look after yourself this time. And come home soon."

Atin closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. "I will, I promise."

"I love you."

Atin felt his throat tighten uncomfortably at the words. "Love you too, sis. I'll talk to you later, kay? Try not to worry too much, Ran." He felt sure that he could hear her nodding through the phone, despite not being able to see her.

"I'll try. Stay safe. Talk to you later." The line went dead.

Atin sank to the bed, phone in his hands. He flopped backwards and stared at the ceiling again.

The door to the room opened with a slight creak and Rodas peered in. "Dude? You alright?"

"Mm?" Atin rolled onto his side and looked at his friend. "Yeah, I'm cool. Done with your lecture?"

Rodas leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He flipped his hair out of his eyes. "Sure am."

"And?"

The darker boy shrugged. "And you're allowed to stay. No hitting on Lise, no bringing girls here, no drugs..." he counted the items off on his fingers, and then shrugged, "Pretty much everything I told you. Oh, and Dad says that if you're seized with the sudden urge to take off with his car: don't."

Atin managed a bark of laughter. "I'll try. And I'm welcome until...?"

Rodas shrugged. "Until you wear out your welcome, I guess. I'll keep you posted." He grinned. "So, you want to do anything tonight or should I just let you veg right now?"

"Honestly? I'm kinda beat."

Rodas nodded slowly. "Okay. You going to come back downstairs, or shall I leave you alone?"

Atin thought about it for a moment. "I think I'm just going to stay here. Go do...whatever you do during the evenings when I'm not here."

"Whatever you say, dude. If you need anything, just let me know, man."

Atin nodded. "Will do."

Rodas nodded again and gave him a two fingered salute before disappearing from the doorway.

The Haven teen got up and closed the door before collapsing back to the bed once more. He folded his hands behind his head and gazed at the ceiling. It was bland and boring, as ceilings should be.

Not for the first time that day, Atin wondered what exactly had driven him to Kras. There wasn't exactly an easy answer. He rolled onto his side and chose to stare at the wall instead. He wasn't tired, not really, but he needed to mull things over for a bit. Something deep in his gut felt _wrong_. What that was, he couldn't say, but something seemed off.

It was well after midnight before he actually fell asleep.

* * *

"Rise and shine, tackle box!"

Atin groaned and rolled over, hoping to block out the horrible sound of what could _only_ be a morning person.

"No you don't. C'mon. Up."

"...no..."

"Yes."

Atin opened his eyes a fraction as he felt Rodas' warm hands on his bare arm. Smirking slightly, the pale teen went completely limp.

Rodas glared and grunted as he attempted to pull Atin out of bed. "My god, you're heavy... So not fair... Just get _up_ already..." He gave an almighty tug and succeeded in dragging the Haven teen off the bed. Atin landed on the floor with a thump and wrenched his arm out of Rodas' grasp as he sat up, massaging his head.

"Okay, okay..._Now_ I'm up. You're like the bratty brother I never had... God... It's going to be a miracle if I make it home without brain damage."

Rodas laughed and gave Atin a playful kick in the shin. "It's your own fault."

Atin sighed and got to his feet, still rubbing his head. "That's what they all say. You know, Ran just uses a squirt bottle if she wants me out of bed at a 'decent' hour."

"Is that so? I think I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Please do. It's less painful."

Rodas laughed and gave him a slap on the back. "If you say so, your highness." A second later he was reeling and holding his jaw where Atin had punched him. "_What the hell was that for_?"

Atin's hand was still balled in a tight fist as he glared at Rodas. "_Don't_ call me that. Ever."

"Sor-ee. God, you're temperamental," Rodas muttered between checking for loose teeth with his tongue. "Next time just _say_ something, okay?"

Atin nodded. "Yeah...Sorry, dude. Touchy spot."

"Clearly." Apparently satisfied that there was no lasting damage, Rodas straightened, brushed down his shirt and looked at Atin. "Well, despite the fact that you just _slugged_ me, I'm still taking you to the practice track today."

"Really? Why?"

Rodas shrugged. "It's _you_. And it won't hurt to have you know where it is when I'm at work."

"You work?"

"Of course. I'm not a usele- er...employment challenged like you are."

Atin rolled his eyes. "Nice save."

* * *

The practice track wasn't exactly bustling with life when the two boys arrived, but it also couldn't be called deserted. Atin was, unfortunately, still attracting as much attention as he had the previous day and there was the occasional murmur of 'Haven' following him.

Unseen by the two boys, a large burly man looked up from the vehicle he was pretending to busy himself with. His dark eyes followed Atin's every move and once he was certain that the two boys were out of earshot he pulled out his cell phone.

Few pleasantries were exchanged with the person on the other end before he said, "We need to get a watch on Virgil's kid. He's up to something; the Haven brat's with him. Better let the boss know."

* * *

Getting interesting yet?


	3. Chapter 3

Well... It's my standard sorta fillerish thing, but it is something. I swore I was going to post some Jak and Dax stuff again before I was in university and look! Here I am. Still another week before classes go in. Yay.

Not the greatest thing in the world, but hopefully it'll get the ball rolling on this fic again. We shall see.

Haven, Kras and (OMG a mentioned canon character!) Razer all belong to Naughty Dog.

* * *

"Oy, Haven!"

Atin didn't look up from the car manual he'd been thumbing through. "I respond better if you use my name," he muttered.

The comment earned him a snort. "I'm sure you say that to all the girls. 'Say my name...Oh god, say my name.' Am I right?"

Atin flung the manual down and got up. "Fine, Lise. What do you want?"

She smirked at him. "Not even going to defend yourself this time? My goodness, that _is_ surprising."

He rolled his eyes, waving a hand to try and act uncaring. "I walked into that one."

"Not the only thing you walk into."

Atin bristled. "_What do you want, Lise_?" he snarled through clenched teeth. "_I was minding my own business_."

She smiled. "That's better. I'm supposed to clean the kitchen, but... I don't feel like it. So you're going to do it for me, kay?"

"What? No. Do it yourself." He rolled his eyes and made to grab the car manual again.

Lise laughed. "I think you misunderstood. Either you do it, or I go tell Mom you're making advances on me and you're out on the street faster than you can say manwhore."

He glared at her. "Fine. Whatever. You are _such_ a pain." At least he hadn't been doing something important.

The girl grinned at him and said, in a sickly sweet voice, "Thank you."

Atin shoved her out of the way and gave her the finger over one shoulder as he headed to the kitchen.

* * *

The Haven teen was scrubbing down the countertop and muttering choice curses under his breath when he caught the sound of voices. He looked over at the entrance to the kitchen and chewed his lip, contemplating. His curiosity won out and he inched over to the wall to get a better idea of what was being discussed. Part of him was expecting it to be Lise, telling on him to her mother, just because she could.

It wasn't. It was Rodas' parents.

Deciding to go back to cleaning if the conversation started to get awkward, Atin leaned against the wall and focused on listening in.

"I'm sure. We're all being watched." Virgil said matter-of-factly.

"What could they possibly hope to achieve?" his wife asked, sounding distressed. "We have nothing to hide. We've done nothing."

"Well, _we_ haven't, no. But who knows for sure about..." Virgil trailed off for a moment. "The boy."

Atin felt an icy hand close around his heart. Not them too...

"I don't know... I mean... Really, Virgil, we don't have any reason to think he's up to anything."

"That's what worries me."

He was causing them trouble. Someone was watching their entire household because of him. Just because of where he was from. It bothered Atin more than he would've expected.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He jumped and spun to face Lise. "Nothing," he said hastily.

"That's obvious enough." She looked around the kitchen. "You're not done yet? Slow work." She shook her head in dismay. "That's no way to earn your keep here." Lise fixed him with a hard look. "And eavesdropping too. That just won't do."

Atin sighed. "I can't decide if you do this to me because you like me, or if you really hate me this much."

"Trust me. I hate you."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

Lise cuffed him on the back of the head and pointed at the countertop. "Finish up, Haven."

He rolled his eyes and went to go complete what he'd started, muttering angrily under his breath.

"Complain all you want, Haven, as long as you're here, your ass is _mine_."

Atin stiffened and stared over his shoulder at Lise, eyes wide. "_What_ did you just say?"

The girl turned an interesting shade of red. "You weren't supposed to take it like _that_, you _pervert_!"

"How was I _supposed_ to take that?"

"Not like that!" Lise stamped her foot once and stormed out of the kitchen, muttering an angry, "_Men_."

Atin waited for any telltale sound of her deciding to follow through on her threat to get him kicked out. None came. He gave the counter one final wipe and stretched. Done. He couldn't help but wonder when Rodas was coming home from work. If he had to spend much longer with only Lise for company...well there was no telling what he might do.

* * *

"She does _not_ have it out for you," Rodas said for what seemed like the millionth time. "Is everyone in Haven as paranoid as you?"

Atin glared at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "I am _not_ being paranoid. She's out to get me. I swear."

Rodas gave Atin a demeaning pat on the head and messed up his hair. "You need to chill out more." He laughed as Atin attempted to fix the mess that had been made of his hair.

"Then explain to me _why_ she feels the need to insult me and blackmail me into doing her every bidding?"

Rodas flicked his hand in an oddly feminine way. "That's just Lise. She's a pain in the ass. But she..." Rodas blinked and gave Atin a look as though he was just seeing him properly for the first time. "What do you mean _blackmail_?"

Atin shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "She keeps saying that if I don't listen to her, then she'll tell you or your parents that I hit on her and tried to get into her pants."

The next thing Atin was aware of, Rodas had tackled him to the floor, knees digging into his thighs and fist drawn back ready to pound mercilessly into his face, Rodas' other hand held both his wrists pinned above his head.

"You son of a bitch. You absolute _bastard_," Rodas snarled. His fist was quivering where he held it in the air. "I _told_ you!" He shifted his weight, driving his knees harder into Atin's thighs, causing the Haven teen to yelp in pain. His fist slammed down, just to the left of Atin's face.

Atin's icy eyes darted from Rodas' enraged face to the fist that had nearly been driven into his nose and back. He winced as Rodas increased the pressure on his thighs and the darker teen's fingernails dug into his skin. He tried to move, but ended up just making it worse. He bit his lip to stifle a whimper and fixed Rodas with a hurt and confused look.

"Don't you _dare_ try to play innocent. Not after what you just told me."

It clicked into place. "I haven't done anything to Lise! I haven't tried to!" Atin protested, trying to dislodge Rodas. "Honest. I swear. On my honour."

"Which means _nothing_."

"It's true. Let me prove it to you."

Rodas' lips twitched into a dangerous smirk. "And how do you propose you do that?"

"I don't know yet. But I will. Okay? Trust me."

Rodas sighed, his expression softening. "I just... She's my little sister. I don't know what I'd do if she got hurt because of me, because of something I could've stopped..." He sat up straighter, causing Atin to yelp.

"Get off, get off, get off..." the Haven teen pleaded, closing his eyes as he tried to fight the new burst of pain.

"What?"

"You're still hurting me. Get off!" Atin cried.

Someone snickered from the one of the living room's entrances. Both Atin and Rodas looked over to see Lise, grinning sadistically at them. "Not so fun being on the bottom, is it, manwhore? Rodas, let your boytoy up and get a room, would ya?"

Neither boy had ever moved as fast in their life as they did to get away from each other after that comment.

Lise laughed. "Dinner's ready. If you two can control yourselves long enough for that." She grinned at them both and turned around, still snickering.

Atin brushed down the front of his shirt and gave his hair a quick run-through with his fingers before looking at Rodas. The Kras teenager was a violent shade of red.

"Dude, you okay?"

Rodas laughed nervously. "Fine, fine. Like I said, pain in the ass, but she's family."

Atin gave him a look conveying his disbelief, but decided not to press the matter further. He gave the older teen a playful punch on the shoulder, "Try to be a little less intense. I don't want to find out what you'll do to me if Lise ever tries to tell you I've done something."

Rodas nodded absently. "Yeah. Me too."

* * *

Zayit sat with his feet up on the dashboard of the car, watching his assigned house through tinted windows. So far there had been little action, but that didn't necessarily mean that there wasn't anything going on. It was boring work, watching an average family, but someone had to do it. He sat up as the front door opened and a teenager in a long white coat stepped out. Seconds later the teen was followed by another. Zayit sat up even straighter, muttering, "Jackpot." This was what he'd been waiting for.

Practically glowing in the light of the nearly full moon, his skin not yet dulled by life in Kras, was the Haven boy.

Grinning like a maniac, Zayit grabbed his radio to call his boss. _This_ was going to be good. He started up the car and prepared to follow the pair.

"Zayit, what do you want?" a harsh voice demanded from the other end of the radio.

"Boss, I've got target movement."

There was a pause. "Which one?"

"The son and the Haven brat."

"Good, Zayit. Follow them, but be discreet about it. Tell me where they're going."

"Sure thing, boss."

The line went dead.

* * *

Atin and Rodas stopped outside of a bar. Rodas turned to the taller boy. "Well, this is it. The Bloody Hook."

Atin gazed at the building. "I have heard _so_ many stories about this place from my parents."

"I bet." Rodas pulled the collar of his coat up higher and looked around warily. A car pulled up across the street from them, and the Kras teen grabbed Atin's arm to pull him inside. "C'mon."

* * *

Zayit grinned, watching the pair enter the bar and was quick to notify the standard operatives who were stationed there. If everything went according to plan, they'd know what that foreigner was doing there by the end of the night.

* * *

Atin grinned at the girl and leaned against the bar as she approached. Next to him, Rodas was trying to get rid of the girl _he'd_ attracted without much luck and was getting more and more flustered with each failed attempt.

"I don't think I've seen _you_ around here before," the girl said, taking a seat on the stool next to Atin.

He couldn't quite stop his smirk. "Well, I am a bit of a rare sight."

She gasped. "I love your accent!"

Whatever he'd been about to say died in his throat and his jaw worked for a moment, no sound coming out. He looked thoroughly confused before managing to say, "What accent? I don't have an accent." He turned and looked at Rodas who appeared to have decided zoning out and ignoring the girl would be the fastest way to get rid of her. "Do I?"

Rodas jumped. "Do you what?"

"Have an accent."

"Oh that." The Kras teen shrugged and raised a hand, thumb and forefinger almost touching. "Little one."

Atin nodded once and turned back to the girl. "Alright, I've got an accent. Anything else you like, or does that conclude the list?"

She laughed. "I'm Sroy, and you?"

He arched his pierced eyebrow. "Sroy, huh? Interesting name." He offered her his hand. "Atin."

Sroy took it, giving his hand a firm shake. "From Haven?"

"Yeah...that one..."

She grinned. "You as good as I've heard?"

Atin smirked. "Babe, I can be as good or bad as you _want_ me to be." Rodas cleared his throat behind him rather noisily. "Or I _could_ except, well... I've got a bet going," he jerked a hand in Rodas' direction to indicate just who had put him up to said bet, "to see how long I can go without...my most well known vice."

Sroy leaned over to look at Rodas, expression questioning. The young man quickly turned to his drink, not looking at her.

"So, if you're off-limits, what are you doing here?" Sroy asked.

Atin shrugged. "I can't go out with a friend for a couple drinks, without needing to get a girl out of the equation?" He expected her to get up and leave after that, but Sroy didn't. She sat, watching him. It was unnerving. Atin cleared his throat, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I thought you said you weren't allowed girls."

He arched his pierced eyebrow. "I never agreed not to flirt. Granted, it kinda loses some of the feeling if I end up just saying 'by the way, I'm flirting with you' but you kinda tipped my hand there."

"Maybe you've just lost your touch."

Atin snorted, unable to entirely repress his laugh. "Because _that's_ likely."

"Well how long has this bet been going on?"

"Not long enough for that." He chewed his lip for a moment, ring clicking against his teeth.

"Are all of those piercings for girls you've slept with?" Sroy asked.

Atin froze.

"Well?"

"No." He ran a finger around the rim of his glass, fixing her in his blue gaze. "Why are you so fixated with my sex life?"

"Cause you're notorious. Too many or too little?"

"I... What?"

"Piercings. Too many for each girl you've banged, or too few?"

Atin stared at her, jaw slack. "I refuse to dignify that with an answer."

Sroy cocked her head to the side, as though gauging him. "You seem a lot more uptight in real life."

He shrugged, choosing to ignore the sound of Rodas snorting into – and choking on – his drink. "Can't believe everything you hear."

"No... I suppose not." Sroy looked around, then leaned forward as though she were about to tell Atin a secret. "So what are you doing so far from home?"

Atin took in his surroundings. For once no one seemed to be paying too much attention to him. Save Sroy, though the bartender was polishing a glass so intently that Atin felt certain that he _must_ have been eavesdropping. The teen shrugged once and pointed to Rodas. "Visiting this lug-nut."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

She arched an eyebrow. "Pretty much?"

"Well..." Atin hesitated, chewing his lip again, "I'm here cause of my dad."

"Oh?"

He held up his hands. "Look, I'd really rather not get into it. I don't really know you... This isn't a good conversation to be having."

Sroy's expression became suddenly difficult to read. Part disappointment, part suspicion, and part seeming as though he'd suddenly confirmed something she'd been wondering. It lasted only a moment before she smiled at him – a fake one. "Well, that's valid enough," she said sweetly, reaching out to clasp his forearm. She looked around the bar thoughtfully.

Atin bit his lip, trying to puzzle her out quickly.

"Oh, gosh!" she said, jumping up. "Is that the time already? I've gotta go!" She grabbed her bag and darted out of the bar.

The Haven teenager watched her go in utter bewilderment. One moment she'd been all chatty, the next, taking off under an obvious false pretence... He shrugged, turned to Rodas and couldn't hide his grin at the fact that he had still not managed to get rid of _his_ girl, despite his determined ignoring of her.

Atin leaned over and tapped the girl's shoulder. She jumped and looked at him. "You're wasting your time on this one," he said to her as he indicated Rodas. "He drives down the other side of the road, if you catch my drift."

The girl looked from him to Rodas and back. "Oh. _Oh_." She flushed and got up. As she rejoined her friends she could be heard saying, "_Why_ is it _always_ the cute ones?"

* * *

Zayit scarcely reacted as the door on the other side of his car opened and a figure joined him.

"You been here the whole time?"

"Yep. You find anything out, _Sroy_?" Zayit asked, turning to look at her just in time to see her pull off her wig and shake out her hair.

"Not as much as the boss would've liked. Haven wasn't drinking much. Too bad we couldn't ask his friend a few things; his tongue would've been plenty loose."

Zayit arched an eyebrow at her. "Well, Evike, why didn't you?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "He wouldn't have known anything. Lakyle's keeping watch on the pair in case anything else comes up. He can tell the boss anything he wants to add on to my report." She crossed her arms over her chest and put her feet up on the dashboard. "Doubt there'll be much. The Haven kid seems to be pretty tight lipped and that friend of his..." she shook her head.

"So what _did_ you find out?" Zayit asked. "Razer won't be pleased if you just show up to tell him that you didn't learn squat."

"His father sent him."

"And?"

"And he's _Atin_, Haven City's favourite heir apparent. Say I'm over speculating, but if he's here on his father's orders, Haven must be planning something."

Zayit nodded once. "Right." He started up the engine, secretly glad that he wasn't the one who had to report to Razer.

* * *

"I really wish you hadn't said that..." Rodas muttered, fumbling through his keys for the one to the front door. He held one up and squinted at it before deciding that it was the right one and attempted to insert it into the deadbolt. He missed. Twice. "I didn't think it was that obvious."

Atin cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what exactly Rodas meant. "Um...I'm sorry?" he said. He bit his lip and resisted the urge to take the keys from his friend to open the door himself.

The keys jangled as Rodas suddenly thrust them at Atin. "Here. You do it. 'M not in the mood to fight with the door."

Not for the first time, Atin wondered just how much Rodas had had to drink that night while he'd been looking the other way. "This the right one?"

"Yep."

He slipped the key in on the first try and unlocked the door. He pushed it open as quietly as possible and stepped inside. Rodas followed, snatching his key ring back.

"Anyway, for future reference," the Kras teenager said, closing the door, "I really resent that other side of the road comment."

Atin shrugged, "Got rid of that girl, didn't it?"

Rodas glowered at him. "I guess'o."

"I don't see what the problem is."

Rodas' grey eyes looked him up and down before he turned away in disgust. "No," he said. "I suppose you wouldn't."

* * *

Huzzah, character development anyone?


	4. Chapter 4

I was recently hit by the realization of just how little love the Jak and Dax fandom seems to get now. You have no idea how sad it made me to come to this conclusion. So I sat down and forced myself to finish this chapter. It was mostly done anyway. I should be studying for my Gaelic exam, but I'm not.

Razer, Shiv and the location of Kras city still belong (I believe) to Naughty Dog.

* * *

Razer wasn't pleased. There was no pretending that he was pleased. The way he glared, one arm crossed over his chest, the other held up, cigarette between two fingers. He blew smoke out the left corner of his mouth, the way he always did when particularly annoyed. Evike swallowed nervously. Her boss _had_ heard the saying 'don't shoot the messenger,' hadn't he?

"Sent here?"

She nodded. "Yes. To the best of my understanding."

"Sent here to do_ what_?"

An involuntary shudder ran up her spine. "I don't know," she said, "He wasn't what you'd call _forthcoming_ with the info."

Razer took three steps to the window and looked out. The lights of Kras glowed in the dark of the night, cars whizzed by on the street below; he didn't take his gaze from the cityscape as he spoke. "Lakyle says otherwise." A pause allowed the retired racer to take a drag on his cigarette. Smoke temporarily fogged the window before him, hiding the city from his view. "Care to change your tune?"

"Lakyle wasn't trying to get the info out. He just had to listen." A scowl of irritation crossed her face. Why did Razer even want her to bother reporting if he was just going to take Lakyle's word over hers?

Razer turned, a questioning eyebrow arched, tendrils of smoke spiralled up and away from the end of his lit cigarette. "Are you telling me that you couldn't get information out of a _drunken Haven teenager_?"

Evike grimaced. "I wouldn't say _that_. He was quite tight lipped. He was still inhibited." She watched Razer flick away the butt of his cigarette and grind it on the floor with his heel.

"And you expected that telling me that his father sent him here was going to be enough information did you? Dare I say, Evike, you've lost your touch?" He took a few steps towards her. "You come to me, saying that the heir apparent of Haven City is now in Kras, sent by his father, but offer me nothing else. I need to know things. Why was he sent? Is anyone coming at a later date? What are they planning? You didn't think trying to find any of _that _out was important?" he snarled.

"I'm sorry, boss."

"You'd better be. Bring me a fuller report next time, or I fear your usefulness may have run its course." His hands clasped behind his back and he turned again to the window. "Now get out."

Evike decided not to argue.

* * *

Atin was surprised to see Rodas up and about the next morning just like he always was, considering how inebriated he'd been the night before it was incredibly odd to see him functioning normally. The Kras teen didn't say anything about their excursion the previous night, but Atin didn't miss the dark look that Rodas shot his way once. Lise also seemed to be giving him the cold shoulder, more than he'd come to accept as usual from her; he'd heard her and Rodas talking the night before when he'd gone to bed, but hadn't been able to hear what exactly they were discussing. Not that he'd figured it was of any importance to him anyway.

The darker teen flipped on the coffeemaker and turned around to look at Atin. "So," he said, "your first experience with a Kras bar. What did you think, Haven?" For some reason, coming from Rodas, being called "Haven" didn't seem like as much of an insult as everyone tried to make it. Compared to Lise it was almost...endearing.

Atin shrugged. "Alright. Drinks are better at home. The girls here are weirder too, but that makes things interesting, wouldn't you say?"

It was Rodas' turn to shrug. "Can't say I've ever noticed. Don't really pay attention to that sort of stuff. Or...y'know, have a frame of reference." He looked like he tried to smile and failed, grimacing instead. He gave his head a quick shake. "Overall impression?"

Atin got up from where he sat at the kitchen table. "Dunno. It was...different."

"Fair enough,"

Rodas looked up, flicking hair out of his eyes, as his father walked into the kitchen, newspaper in hand. Virgil gave Atin a slight nod of acknowledgement and turned to his son.

"What was the name of that crab boat your friend works on?"

Rodas blinked, fixing his father with an utterly confused look. "You mean Shane's?" he asked. "_The Jade Maiden_, why?"

Virgil brandished his newspaper at the still baffled Rodas, showing him a page. "One of the boats capsized. I was wondering if it was his."

Colour drained Rodas' face and he snatched the paper away before his father could finish speaking. His grey eyes skimmed quickly through the article. He was shaking by the time he'd finished reading. "What sort of article doesn't tell you the _name_ of the boat?" he demanded, thrusting the paper into Atin's hands. "_Ridiculous._" Without another word he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving a very baffled Atin and rather amused Virgil.

"Um…Here?" Atin suggested, holding the paper out to Rodas' father.

The man took it, chuckling. "Too high-strung sometimes, that boy, he'll go old before his time."

Though Atin was sure there was some sort of comment he could make about it being unfair to Rodas to bring up something that would clearly make him panic – the words to express it just wouldn't come to him, and he turned away, shaking his head. At least his parents never exactly did that sort of thing to him. Wondering how in the world Virgil could justify stressing his son out like that, Atin did the only logical think he could think to do. He left the kitchen.

He was about to follow Rodas – presumably to the other teen's room – when the back of his shirt was grabbed. He turned and found himself face to face with none other than Lise.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a weird habit of just showing up out of nowhere?"

She shrugged. "It's a gift."

"Clearly."

Lise rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Whatever. Look, Rodas is taking a massive risk letting you crash here. Don't be a dick to him. Get it?"

Atin arched his pierced eyebrow. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Bullshit."

"No, seriously. I don't." He folded his arms over his chest and looked down his nose at her. "Look, either explain what you mean, or bug off, would you? I do have better things to do than have you harass me constantly."

She pursed her lips and looked up at him, raising a cool eyebrow. "You are _such_ an asshole. And I can't understand why Rodas even _likes_ you."

"And I can't understand why you hate me so much. I haven't even done anything." He made a shooing motion at her. "So if you would quit pestering me with unfounded accusations-"

Lise smirked. "Fancy words for you. Read the dictionary this morning, did you?"

"You always have to have the last word, don't you?"

For a moment, Lise appeared to consider this, and then grinned at him. "Always. Ask Rodas, he's given up on trying to get the last word with me." A pause. "Most people do."

Atin forced his expression to remain blank. "Probably they just get tired of holding conversations with you and walk away. Allow me to demonstrate." He brushed Lise out of the way and headed up the stairs after Rodas.

The door to Rodas' room was ajar when he got to the top of the stairs. As tempting as it was to just walk in without a clearer indication to keep out, Atin decided to knock. After all, who knew what his friend could be doing in there? It turned out that Rodas was on the phone; he pulled open the door and flicked his head at Atin, indicating that he was welcome to come in. The Haven teen edged inside and took a seat on the bed while Rodas paced around, cell phone to his ear. He hung up without saying anything.

"Who-?"

"Voicemail. Not important," Rodas tone was dismissive, though his body language suggested that he was more than slightly bothered by something. "Anyway, what's up?"

* * *

"Shiv."

A tremor shot down his spine. What could he have possibly done to earn that tone from Razer? "Yes, boss?"

Razer's green eyes were calm as he looked at his associate. "I need information about that Haven brat. Evike lacked the abilities to bring me anything useful. Get the civilians in on the matter."

He nodded once. "Will do." He was about to rise, when a thought struck him. "Boss? Aren't you getting a bit obsessive about this?"

Razer's lips twitched into an amused grin. "Some might think so. But I trust you remember what happened Haven got their noses in the business of Kras? Dare I say the last thing we need is another gambit like Krew's princess pulled. If that boy's here to mess up _our_ city, then I intend to get a warning this time."

This time Shiv couldn't manage to hide how uncomfortable the thought made him.

"Am I clear?"

The thug nodded once. "Perfectly, boss. I'll get the civilians on it. By noon everyone will be on the lookout for him."

"That's what I like to hear."

* * *

Atin couldn't help being curious about who was at the door. Odds were that he didn't know them, but still, there was the off chance that he'd already been found out and it never hurt to play it safe... Atin got to his feet, trailing after Rodas. He hung back as the Kras teen answered the door. It opened to reveal a man who appeared to be a couple years older than either of the teens.

"Shane...What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you. Obviously."

Rodas shook his head, bewildered. "But you weren't due back for another week, and one of the boats cap..." He trailed off as he noticed Shane wasn't looking at him. Rather he was glaring at something over Rodas' left shoulder.

Atin glared right back at him, crossing his arms over his chest, attempting to stare down this stranger.

"Do...you guys know each other or something?" Rodas asked, looking from Shane to Atin and back.

Atin shook his head. "Never seen 'im."

Shane flicked his head in Atin's direction. "That's the Havener, then, is it? The one that everyone's talking about?"

Before Rodas could say a thing, Atin was stepping forward, shoving him out of the way. "I have a goddamn _name_," he snarled, glaring at Shane.

"Funny thing about names; seems everyone's got one nowadays."

"_Shane_." Rodas' voice carried a warning. He placed a hand on Atin's shoulder and dragged the taller boy away from the newcomer. "Be nice." Whether this was directed at Shane, Atin, or both it wasn't clear.

Shane appeared to take it as he was being addressed and didn't seem to think too highly of it. He scowled at Rodas. "What is he doing here, Rodas?"

"He's visiting for a while. That's all."

This answer appeared unacceptable to Shane. "Oh really? He's just visiting?"

Atin winced as the grip on his shoulder tightened. Rodas didn't even appear to be aware of doing it. "Just visiting."

"Well, if that's the case, where's he staying?"

Rodas' fingernails were digging streaks into the bare skin of Atin's shoulder now, drawing angry red trenches in his pale flesh. And he still didn't even seem to register doing it. He felt like their roles should be reversed. He didn't need Rodas to hold him back, but it looked like Rodas might need someone to stop him from doing..._something_… in a minute or two. "He's staying in our guest room for the foreseeable future."

It seemed that Rodas had just realized the grip he had on Atin's shoulder and forced himself to let go. There was some sort of snort of annoyance from Shane as Atin massaged his shoulder, trying to work the marks from his skin. An awkward sort of tenuous silence formed around the three of them.

Rodas cleared his throat. "Atin, I think Shane and I ought to have a little chat. Why don't you-?"

"Go do something not nearby? Hint taken." He put his hands up in a sign of surrender and backed away, not at all sure that that Shane fellow was someone he felt comfortable turning his back on, even for a second.

Whatever it was that Shane and Rodas 'chatted' about, it didn't seem to wind up being the most pleasant of discussions as it ended with a slammed door that reverberated through the whole house.

* * *

Within a few hours, it had become clear that something was bothering Rodas and Atin had been more than content to let the other teenager have some space for whatever it was. It became apparent rather quickly however, that Lise had no such reservations about pressing her brother for details. But then again, they _were_ siblings.

He hadn't meant to start eavesdropping, it had just sort of happened. He'd passed Rodas' room and overheard part of a conversation with Lise. It was only natural to be curious, after all.

"-much time with him. Take the night," Lise said.

"You know I can't. Like Mom and Dad wouldn't find that _weird_. Besides, it's not like I can just up and leave. Not with," Rodas grew quieter, "Atin around."

"Oh honestly. I can handle him for one night. We'll go for a walk or something. C'mon, tonight's as good a chance as you're going to get. Mom and Dad are going out; I'll take Haven for the night. I know you miss him when he's on the boat."

A sigh, likely from Rodas. "You're _sure_ you don't mind?" he asked.

"Would I suggest it if I did?"

There was silence and Atin couldn't quite help sidling over to Rodas' slightly opened door and peering in.

Rodas was hugging Lise tightly, muttering something in her ear that Atin couldn't make out. Whatever it was, however, she clearly took it as a compliment, grinning.

"I wouldn't say that," she said, "But I _am_ pretty good."

It was at this point that Atin decided that he'd intruded on their conversation enough and slipped away. It wasn't long after he'd wandered off that Lise came to find him. She pushed open the door to the guest room and looked in.

"Oy! Atin!"

He froze. She'd just called him by his _name_. That was new. Since when did she do that? Atin turned to her slowly, giving Lise a suspicious look. It seemed like she genuinely was interested in having a proper conversation with him. Bizarre. "What, Lise?" he asked.

Her expression wasn't one of her usual condescension. In fact, she actually looked rather amiable. For a moment Atin was completely stumped as to how to respond or what to expect. "We," she said, "meaning you and I – are going out tonight."

His pierced eyebrow shot up. It was one thing to have overheard her and Rodas talking, but it was another thing entirely to hear her be so direct about it. He'd expected her to hold back a bit.

"It's not a date, so don't go getting any stupid ideas. We're just-"

"Going out of the house for the evening," he finished for her.

Lise nodded. "Exactly. Rodas and Shane will be here – and trust me, we don't want to be around those two; my parents are going out for dinner, so I'm taking you out of the house for the evening."

Atin shrugged. "Alright. I'll buy that." He couldn't resist smirking slightly. "And I need to have you home by when?"

She fixed him with a flat stare and her answer was clipped. "Ten. No later."

He nodded once. "I somehow doubt you'll want to put up with me until then, but alright."

Lise shrugged at him, trying to look nonchalant about the whole thing. "I might have to. I'm doing this for Rodas."

"Well, I'd have been a little confused if you suddenly decided that you liked me."

The girl pulled a face and turned away. "Be ready for four-thirty; we'll grab dinner while we're out."

* * *

Shane returned to the house at roughly quarter after four that afternoon. Though he still looked far from thrilled about Atin's presence, it seemed that Rodas had called to inform him of the plans for the evening and he managed to be a bit more civil toward the pale boy. It would have helped more had he not apparently developed a habit of smirking at Atin as though he knew something that the younger man didn't. It unnerved him and Atin found himself desperately wishing that Lise had planned for the two of them to leave before Shane arrived. Or that he could possibly fathom what reason in the world Shane thought he had to look so damn smug. Either way, it was uncomfortable.

It was a little before four-thirty when they actually did leave; Lise's parents sending them off with a reminder for Lise to be back by ten and a slightly mistrusting look at Atin that he pretended to ignore.

* * *

"Boss?" Shiv asked from the doorway. There was a slight change in Razer's body language that said he'd been startled – how unusual. He waited until the retired racer had turned to him before daring to continue. "Boss, we've had a tip-off. The Haven brat's going to be out at the docks this evening."

"My, my, really? That _is_ interesting," Razer said, though it was more to himself than Shiv. He fixed the other man with a harsh look. "Get him tonight. Before he crawls back into that quiet, little hole of his."

There was no argument. "Yes, boss. Who do you want collecting?"

Razer contemplated this, tapping one finger against his lower lip. "You go with Zayit. Keep him from getting too… showy. We don't need to draw _too_ much attention to ourselves."

Shiv nodded and was about to leave when Razer spoke again.

"And Shiv? If he's with that boy or someone again, make things easy; grab both of them."

* * *

Atin was forced to admit, Lise really knew where some of the more interesting places in Kras were to visit. He was beginning to realize just how little he actually knew of the city apart from the races. The whole experience was rather fascinating.

Though he'd initially felt awkward with only Lise for company, it wasn't too long before the pair of them were chatting comfortably. The whole situation was so _normal_ that it was hard to realize that he was actually out and about with the same girl who seemed so determined to harass him throughout his entire stay.

She'd led the way towards a quaint little seafood restaurant for dinner, and laughed at him for his surprise at how good it actually was, chiding him for how little appreciation he had for the fishing industry.

"Honestly," she said once they were back outside in the summer air, "You didn't _really _think that all anyone here did was race and work on cars, did you?"

"Of course not, I just never put much thought into what else went on."

Lise rolled her eyes. "No, I suppose that would be expecting a bit much of you, wouldn't it?"

Atin forced a laugh, itching at his left forearm. "_Funny_." For whatever reason, his action seemed to draw Lise's attention. She took Atin's arm and tapped the fingers of her free hand against his rather pink skin. Something about the result of this made her giggle.

"What's so funny?"

"You got _sunburnt_."

His brow furrowed. "Yeah, and?"

She didn't reply immediately, instead dragging him off the sidewalk and into the shadow of a building. "You _burn_. We weren't even in the sun that much." Before he could speak again, she had grabbed his hair and pulled his head down to get a better look at his scalp, fingers threading though his hair. "You're not secretly a ginger under all this dye, are you?"

Atin's expression became incredulous. "Do I _look_ like I have red hair?"

"You've got the temper for it."

He spluttered. "That's ridiculous. Redheads don't have bad tempers."

She released his hair and looked at him. "So you admit that you _do _have a bad temper?"

"I didn't say that."

Lise punched him in the shoulder. Though Atin was pretty sure she'd intended to make it playful, the blow stung more than he would've anticipated. Ordinarily he might've commented on it, but Lise was all smiles and had such a playful air about her that he didn't want to dare wreck the moment with something she would surely call whining.

He allowed himself a grin, looking down at her. She smirked at him. Had she been any other girl, he'd have probably said some sort of stupid line to her and they'd have wound up lip-locked in the mouth of that alley. But she wasn't just any other girl, she was _Lise_. And the mere knowledge that Rodas would castrate him for so much as thinking about making a move on her was enough to freeze any such plan in in its tracks. As such, Atin found himself in what he would later describe as a simply awkward situation where he was caught with a girl and entirely unsure what to do with her. Surely she found this as uncomfortable as he did. Now what did someone do with a girl that they weren't allowed to kiss when they needed to break the tension?

* * *

They'd made it so _easy_ to sneak up on them, the Haven boy and the girl. Neither one had been on guard, and – conveniently – each had been staring at the other and paying no attention to anything going on around them. Zayit did love it when they make things easy for him.

He'd taken the girl, leaving Shiv to grab the foreigner. Girls made the most delightful squeak when grabbed, and her companion looked like he might be capable of fighting back. But it seemed like the element of surprise worked against both targets and by the time the Haven teen had realized that he should be struggling, the girl was already bound with Shiv tying one final knot around his target's hands. Any fighting that could have happened was no longer possible.

Both teenagers were, to put things simply, terrified. Too scared to call for help, too scared to run. They stared at each other, wide-eyed and uncomprehending. It was beautiful. Like they had forgotten that they had voices.

Zayit loved the shock factor. And when he'd noticed the outline of a cell phone in the foreigner's pocket, he'd helped himself, getting closer than was necessary to reach inside the boy's pocket and fish it out, tossing the electronic into the nearby bushes.

Razer would have a field day with these two…

* * *

"Rodas, call your sister!"

Rodas groaned and pushed Shane away. "Stay here." He got up, heading to the door of his room, leaving the slightly bemused Shane on his bed. He pulled open the door and leaned out. "What, Mom?" he called down the hall.

"Call your sister! It's after curfew!"

"Yes, Mom!" He sighed melodramatically and closed the door, pulling out his cellphone, muttering, "Don't know why you can't do it…" He dialled and leaned against the wall as it rang. A line of confusion appeared on his forehead as his eyebrows drew together and he looked around. A moment later he'd bolted from his room and run into Lise's. There, on her desk, was her cellphone ringing cheerily.

Rodas swore. So much for being able to get a hold of his sister. He terminated the call in progress and tried Atin's number. It went to voicemail. He tried again. Shane came into the room just as the call went to voicemail for the second time in a row. Rodas ignored the first question as what exactly was going on, choosing instead to glare at his cellphone.

"Rodas?"

"I can't get a hold of either of them," Rodas said, "Lise doesn't have her phone and Atin won't pick up." He pocketed his phoned and stormed out of the room.

"Where exactly are you going?" Shane asked, still rooted in place.

Rodas spun. "First, to go downstairs and tell my parents that I can't get in touch with either of them. _And then_ I'm going to find my little sister and the playboy. And if you've got any idea of what's good for you, you're going to help."

* * *

I swear, I'm not going to let Rodas usurp the plot. I'm not going to let Rodas usurp the plot. I'm not going to let Rodas...etc. Curse my love of my secondary characters. Seriously though, Rodas is not going to usurp the main plot now that I've gotten it started. Sort of.

Reading Erol fics and then attempting to write Razer is not the smartest decision that someone can make. If you're ever curious. Or maybe it's just me...


	5. Chapter 5

Apologies for the long wait. Classes and evictions and time spent homeless have kept me busy.

I smell garlic. Why do I smell garlic at 8:40 in the morning?

I think I forgot to put a canon character in... No! Wait. Shiv! He's here. And he is the property of Naughty Dog.

* * *

It took all of five minutes for Rodas to yank on his coat and grab car keys, Shane in tow. There was an aura of danger about him – he was a time bomb, ready to go off at a moment's notice. The elder of the two was smart enough not to provoke him. He offered no argument as Rodas barked at him to get in the car; he'd barely gotten his seatbelt on before Rodas peeled out of the garage and tore down the street.

He didn't ask where they were going.

* * *

Rodas caught the arm of one of the shopkeepers just as she was closing up. "Excuse me," he said, "I was wondering if you might be able to help me."

"How?"

He bit his lip. Was there a good way to phrase this? He decided that, no, there really wasn't much he could say to make it any less jarring and just needed to be clear.

"My sister's gone missing. She said she was coming down here with a guy friend this afternoon." Seeing the rather sceptical look on the face of the woman he was talking to, Rodas forced himself to continue talking. "Her name's Lise. She's about five foot six, tanned skin, grey eyes, ruddy-brown hair down to her waist…" What had Lise been dressed in that day?

The woman appeared to contemplate this information; he could tell from the look of her that she really wasn't sure if she'd seen his sister. Of course. Lise wouldn't have really been all that distinct, but maybe she'd noticed Atin, he at least stuck out.

"What about the guy she was with? I'd say he's roughly six feet, pale, short black hair, blue eyes, lots of piercings…?" He closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, trying to remember, "Would've been wearing a black shirt – no sleeves, grey cargo pants and combat boots?" Why could he remember what Atin was wearing but not Lise? A little voice in his head supplied the obvious answer; the rest of his mind yelled at it to shut up.

The shopkeeper clicked her fingers once. "Yes! I did see them! Um…" She ran a hand through her hair as she looked around the street before pointing towards the docks. "They were headed that way when I saw them. It was… I'd say about three, three and a half, hours ago. I…I'm sorry I don't know more."

Rodas shook his head. "No, no don't be. Really. That's helpful. Thank you." He clasped her hands in his for a moment, squeezing, before shouting for Shane to follow him and taking off at a run in the direction she'd been pointing.

* * *

It had occurred far too late to Atin that fighting against their captors might have been a good thing to try. Too bad that he and Lise had both had their hands zip tied behind their backs prior to this revelation. And it was too bad that experience quickly taught him that hip-checking Shiv in an attempt to break free was about as effective as doing it to a brick wall. Actually, it might have hurt less had Shiv actually been a brick wall.

The man's fingers dug further into his shoulders, drawing fresh red marks in the pale flesh of his shoulders where Rodas' had done so earlier that day. Had that really only been that morning? It seemed so long ago. Eons seemed to have passed since he and Lise had been jumped in the mouth of that alley and stuffed unceremoniously in the back of that windowless van.

And now, now they were being frogmarched down a hall to meet some unknown end. Or rather they were being forced down the hall towards a door which they would presumably be going through. On the plus side, it didn't look too ominous. Surely any sort of door that led to certain doom wouldn't look so plain.

Shiv muscled open the door and flung Atin inside with an enviable lack of effort. The teen skidded along the floor and rolled onto his side to face the door. He caught Lise's momentary look of terror and for a single horrifying moment he was sure that she was about to be dragged away to some other dingy corner of the building where he wouldn't be able to find her. He saw Zayit hiss something in her ear that made her glare at him and aim a kick at his crotch before she too was thrust into the room, hitting the floor with a rough smack.

The door slammed shut and locked with a soft click.

Lise twisted, managing to bring herself up into a sitting position and looked around. "Fine mess you've gotten us into, Haven."

Atin glared up at her. "You're the one who suggested we go out."

She blew hair out of her face. "Yeah. Cause I totally planned this whole thing out."

* * *

It was the flashing light that drew his attention. Just a small red light out of the corner of his eye, for a moment Rodas thought that he'd been imagining it. It came again as he turned and he practically dove on the patch of grass, rifling through it.

There. The screen was cracked and the casing was slightly worse for wear, but when he stood, clutched tight in his hand was Atin's cellphone, the blinking light signaling the presence of missed alerts.

* * *

Lise sat staring at her hands now folded in her lap. After some fancy twisting, she'd managed to get them free from behind her back, much to Atin's annoyance. There was still the matter of the zip tie though.

"I don't suppose you've got a pocket knife on you?"

Atin struggled unsuccessfully to sit up. "You think I've got a pocket knife? Can't you just contortionist your way out, Miss Freaky-flexible?"

She kicked him in the shin. "Funny. I thought you Haven types were supposed to be armed to the teeth at all hours of the day." She struggled to pull her hands apart and winced as the zip tie cut further into her wrists.

"Yeah, because I'm totally going to wander into a foreign city carrying all manner of concealed weapons. _Honestly_… And to think you were _so_ pleasant to be around a few hours ago."

"A few hours ago I could feel my hands."

Atin contemplated this. His own hands had reached the painful state of numbness that he associated with tying his boots too tightly, or sleeping on his arm funny. Drawing on reserves of coordination he didn't know he possessed, Atin struggled into some semblance of a sitting position and tried flexing his fingers. For all he knew, they'd remained immobile. He grimaced, trying to form a fist, to work some blood back into his hands.

It took a few minutes, but soon his hands were flooded with the searing sensation of blood recirculating through his digits. He drew a sharp breath in through his teeth. It _burned_.

"Lise!"

The urgency in his voice seemed to startle her. "What? What is it?" She shifted to her knees, bounds hands braced against the floor as she leaned towards him.

Atin extended his left leg to her. "I've got a lighter in my thigh pocket."

"Lovely. That matters _why_?"

He sighed, nudging her in the knee with his foot. "We can melt through the plastic. Grab it for me, would ya?" Lise recoiled. Anyone watching would have thought that Atin had asked her for a much more intimate favour than merely requesting his lighter. "Please, Lise."

It was with the utmost reluctance that Lise managed to maneuver her hands into his pocket and, after a few tries, successfully retrieved his lighter. The bright yellow of the plastic case seemed exceptionally so against her pale hands. She sat there, staring at it as though she'd never had the opportunity to examine one in such close detail before.

"You _can_ work a lighter, can't you?"

Her glare practically answered the question for him. "I usually have a greater degree of freedom to move my extremities." Lise's thumb fumbled on the wheel, nearly dropping the lighter in her attempt to draw forth a flame. Her eyes narrowed and Atin could see her biting her lip as she tried again to strike the fire. The next few seconds ticked by, strained with unspoken tension, Atin scarcely dared to breathe for fear of disturbing her.

The lighter sparked and a flame sprang from the tip. "Turn around."

He twisted and presented her with his bound hands, offering them to her as much as he could. Atin had to bite back a yelp as his skin was seared by the fire wielded in Lise's unsteady grip. A dollop of molten plastic landed on one of his wrists and he flinched away.

"Hey! Hold still, I'm nearly through."

Atin did his best to glare at her over his shoulder, flicking his bangs out of his eyes. "Be more careful, would ya?"

She didn't so much as look up. "I'd like to see you do this."

The zip tie fell away and Lise dropped the lighter. Atin let out a slow breath as he eased his hands around to the front of his body wincing as his muscles protested the new position. He flicked the plastic from his wrist, leaving an angry blister where it had been. A moment to hiss in pain was all Atin allowed himself before forcing it away to focus on freeing Lise's hands.

Her hands were icy cold, he couldn't help noticing as he held them still, flicking the retrieved lighter on.

Lise had gone stiff, twin reflections of the wavering flame reflected in her grey eyes. Her fingers twitched in Atin's light hold, as though she were resisting pulling away. "Your hands are shaking."

"So are yours." Was she nervous? He wouldn't have blamed her if she was. Hours of a cramped an awkward position had done neither of them any favours.

Her fingers twitched again, quivering against his grip. "Only because yours are. I like my hands as they are."

She _was_ nervous. Atin turned his gaze upwards, flicking hair out of his eyes as he smirked at her. "Numb, you mean?"

"Atin, just shut up and get this damn thing off me."

It was the use of his name that made him quash his own lingering uncertainties and actually bring the flame up to the plastic circling her wrists. He felt her tense - again - and he muttered something vaguely reassuring to her as he worked to free her hands.

It took slightly longer to loose Lise's hands than it had taken for his own, mainly due to the fact that Atin took it upon himself to be more careful than she had. He held one of her wrists with his left hand, in his right, he held the lighter close to, but not in contact with, the plastic. She whimpered once when the flame flickered and nearly licked along the side of one hand, but otherwise remained silent.

It felt like ages before he succeeded in melting through.

The plastic tie fell away and Atin flicked the lighter off, stowing it in his pocket once more. Lise was watching him, fingers still curled, her wrists still held close together.

"You can move now, y'know."

"I can't feel my fingers. At all."

Without thinking, Atin took Lise's hands in his own and began to massage her fingers and palms. Her hands were still icy cold. Had her binding been tighter than his?

The hair on the back of his neck prickled and Atin looked up; Lise was watching him with an expression he'd never seen her wear before. She almost looked...tender, and a little worried. He smoothed his thumbs over her skin, trying to come up with something to say to her.

Her fingers twitched in his grasp and she pulled her hands away, rubbing them together to keep the circulation going. He felt a pang of disappointment. That had felt like a "moment." Or he might have just been imagining things. From the look on her face now, he'd definitely been imagining it.

Damn.

* * *

Rodas slumped forward against the steering wheel, Atin's cellphone in hand. His entire body was trembling. Shane put out a hand to squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, but Rodas slapped it away.

"Don't."

"Rodas, we'll find her."

"No." Rodas shook his head. "No we won't. Not like this."

"Don't say that." Shane caught Rodas by the arm and tugged slightly until he turned to face him. "We're going to get Lise back." He sighed. "I'm sorry."

Rodas snorted and braced his arm on the back of the passenger seat, looking over his shoulder as he prepared to reverse. "Whatever."

"Rodas." Something in the tone of Shane's voice made him pause and look over at the fisherman. "I'm sorry. Lise wasn't supposed to be caught up in this."

For a moment, Rodas could only stare at Shane, mouth half open. His hand slipped from the back of the seat and hung limp at his side. His brow furrowed and he mouthed the words that had just been spoken to him as though trying to puzzle out a quickly spoken phrase of a language he barely understood. Then he was grabbing the stick shift and wrenching it into park, unbuckling his seatbelt and twisting to face Shane.

"What the hell did you _do_?"

Shane did his best to meet the shorter man's gaze, but was unable to hold it for long. "They wanted information on the Havener. They paid, Rodas. A lot. I thought you'd be glad."

Rodas' glare didn't waver. "You _sold out_ my sister?"

"No! Rodas, I swear, I didn't know they'd take her!"

A hand tangled in the fabric of Shane's shirt as Rodas yanked him close. There were so many things he _wanted_ to say, to yell. Demanding to know on what plane of existence that kind of behavior was acceptable was a popular option, so was shouting things that logic dictated he'd regret later… He shoved Shane away, expression twisted in disgust. "Get out of my car."

"Rodas, I-"

"_Now._" The ferocity in his voice had Shane groping for the door handle and fumbling with his seatbelt, near tumbling backwards onto the sidewalk. "I never want to see you again. So help me god if you ever come anywhere near me again." Rodas leaned over and slammed the passenger door shut, jerked the gear shift into drive, and peeled away from the sidewalk, not so much as glancing at the rapidly shrinking figure of Shane in his rear view mirror.

* * *

The door was locked. Lise had told him it was. She'd emphasized just how much of an idiot he was for thinking that the condition of their capture might have changed in the last few hours just because they'd happened to be lucky enough to get their hands free. She was right, of course, but Atin wasn't prepared to give her the satisfaction of knowing that yet. Not that she couldn't tell just by _watching_ him that they were still stuck.

"I take it you don't have some magical way to open a locked door like you can get out of a zip tie?"

"Shut up. I'm thinking."

He heard her make some sort of half-laugh, but didn't bother to turn around to check. "Evidently I've overestimated your ability to multitask."

Atin sighed and rested his head against the cool metal of the door. How were they ever going to get out of this mess?

* * *

Rodas didn't go to bed that night. He sat up in the living room with both his sister's and Atin's cell phones on the coffee table before him, mug of hot – and admittedly alcoholically enhanced – coffee in his hands. His parents stayed in the kitchen. He could hear his mother crying and his father attempting to comfort her, his own voice husky with emotion. But Rodas' eyes were dry, his hands still in the face of this betrayal.

He brought his drink to his lips and sipped it experimentally. _Needs more vodka_.

* * *

Longest night of all these guys' lives, I think.

I realized that this was going to be a monster of a chapter if I crammed everything that I wanted to into it. So I decided to break things up a bit.


	6. Chapter 6

What's this? Another chapter? In the same _month_? What devilry is this? This is what comes of me trying to avoid school work while trying to get back into the habit of daily writing again and fluff up my NaNoWriMo word count.

**Warning:** For those who are bothered by such things, near the end of this chapter, there is a heavily implied moment of dubious consent. Nothing graphic; I'd be upping the rating on this fic if there was. Make of it what you will.

Razer, Shiv, Rayn, Mizo, Krew and Edje are all property of Naughty Dog. Everyone else is mine.

* * *

The room they'd been put in had gotten cold in the night, uncomfortably so. So when Lise had rolled over into Atin and seized him for warmth, there had simply been no getting rid of her. He'd sighed, accepted that she wasn't about to let go anytime soon and fallen asleep once more. Some hours later, Atin awoke to find that, at some point, he had grabbed and held onto her in his sleep, only to be welcomed from the world of dreams by a mouthful of reddish-brown hair.

The sound of him spitting roused Lise and she sat up, rubbing one eye with the heel of her hand. Both her wrists were mostly circled by a ring of red bruising, but otherwise she appeared no worse for wear.

"Why, in God's name, do you have so much _hair_?" Atin demanded, wiping at his chin and lips.

A halfhearted shrug. "I didn't have you pegged as a cuddler."

"Hey. You started that."

Another half-shrug. Lise began combing her hair with her fingers, making irritated little 'hmm' noises when she encountered tangles. "Maybe I did. But you're the one who wouldn't let go later." She examined the tips of one section of her hair, sighing. "Sleeping with you is like sleeping with a puppy."

Atin spluttered. "_What_?"

"Y'know, they're clingy and need to get as close to you as possible."

Any retort died in his throat. What exactly could he say to that? There really wasn't much that he could. "Why are we even wasting time on this? We should be figuring out how to get out of this."

Lise stretched and got to her feet, smoothing the wrinkles out of her clothes. "That's not going to happen until they decide it can happen." She wandered around the room, seeming to take stock of just how devoid it was of anything to really make it comfortable. "The syndicate isn't about to let us just waltz out of here because we don't want to be here anymore."

Atin watched her, cringing inwardly as she rubbed a bruised wrist.

She wandered over to examine the view from the lone, tiny window. "Everyone's probably worried sick about us."

He had to resist correcting her. No one cared about where _he_ was. "Hey, we'll figure something out. I'll get you back home." Atin got up and walked to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

Lise smacked his hand away, spinning to face him. "This is all your fault."

Atin's right eyebrow shot up. "_My_ fault? As if."

"If you'd never come here, this never would have happened." There was such a conviction to her words, such certainty that yes, this really was his doing, that Atin wasn't sure how to respond; that seemed to happen a lot around Lise, come to think of it.

He was spared needing to say anything by the sound of the lock sliding out of place on the door and a scowling Shiv entering the room.

"You two," he growled, "the boss wants to see you."

* * *

The sharp trill of Rodas' cell phone jolted him from where he sat, half-asleep in a living room chair and he fumbled blindly for it in his pocket. A quick glance at display and he disconnected the call. He wasn't drunk enough for this. Or maybe he wasn't sober enough. Either way… He was caught in some bizarre state between the two that was, in his opinion, no good for dealing with anything. He reached for the mug he'd had his coffee in the night before and eyed the last mouthful contemplatively before downing it. It was cold and more like alcohol with a hint of coffee than the other way around. Rodas couldn't bring himself to care.

He'd just decided to put his phone back in his pocket when it began ringing again.

So that was how it was going to be.

He flipped open his phone. "Stop it."

"Rodas, thank Go-"

_Click_. He snapped his phone shut again. What part of "I never want to see you again" did Shane fail to grasp?

For a third time, that sharp ring came. "Fuck." He didn't bother to glance at the display, just hefted the phone in his hand and sent it sailing across the living room where it collided with the wall, popping the back cover off and sending the battery pack skittering across the floor. There. No more Shane.

He rose, bringing the now empty mug with him as he headed into the kitchen where he dropped it into the sink to join the dishes serving as evidence of his parents' breakfasts.

Come to think of it, where _were_ his parents? He couldn't imagine that they'd just decided to up and go to work after last night. They'd probably gone to the authorities, for all the good it would do.

Shane had all but handed Atin and Lise over to the syndicate, some good the police would be there.

* * *

Atin had heard the stories about the retired racer turned gang lord, had had a vague idea of what to expect if he ever saw him… It wasn't enough to have fully prepared him for this. He was held fast by Shiv and another man, neither of them showing any sign that they were about to let him go. Lise was again kept still courtesy of Zayit; she looked far, far less than thrilled about it and seemed to be calculating the best angle to kick him from.

And then there was Razer himself. The streaks of silver-grey shot through his hair failed to make him look less imposing, quite the opposite really.

Smoke spiraled up from the tip of his seemingly ever present cigarette and he raised it to his lips, studying the teens before him.

There was something penetrating in Razer's gaze, something that made Atin want to hide. He flicked his head, sending his bangs flopping pitifully into his face, partially obscuring his eyes, using them as a slight barrier between himself and the other man. He needn't have bothered.

A gloved hand came up, catching Atin by the jaw, twisting and turning his head as those green eyes scrutinized him. It was making his skin crawl. He wanted to back away, break free of that grasp but there was something in the way Razer held his face that suggested trying to do so could very quickly become painful; there was a hidden strength in his hand, a sort of power that warned against trying anything stupid.

Atin forced a smirk. "Like what you see?"

Razer made a disapproving 'tsk' sound. "How very much you look like your father."

The Haven teen was unable to hide his scowl at the comment. "Familiar with him, are you?"

"You might say that." Here Razer paused and took a drag on his cigarette, blowing the smoke in his captive's face. Atin coughed and tried to turn away, but Razer's grip held him in place. "Suffice to say, I'm wondering what an unremarkable _brat_ of his is doing in my city."

"Bite me." He spat at Razer, saliva hitting the retired racer just below his right eye.

The force of the resulting slap made Atin's head spin and the world flicker out of focus, just for a moment. He barely had time to fully register that he'd been hit before pain flared in the right side of his neck. He yelped and tried to move to grab at the source of the sting but Shiv and his companion held him fast. Razer pulled his hand away, leaving only the burn from the end of his cigarette.

He swiped an irritated thumb over his cheek, clearing away Atin's spit. "If I were you, _boy_, I would consider taking a more cooperative approach."

"I think we both know that's not about to happen."

Again, Razer made his irritated 'tsk.' "That stubborn attitude will land you in trouble, boy."

"Always does."

Out of the corner of his eye, Atin saw Lise sigh and he felt the barest twinge of guilt. He was doing neither of them any favours. He gave her an apologetic look, which was returned with a scowl.

"I see how this is." Razer's voice was smooth and dangerous, still calm despite the anger that he had to be feeling. "Shiv, take the girl elsewhere. He's showing off for her."

The big man nodded and released his grip on Atin, moving instead to take Lise from Zayit. Razer caught Atin's chin in his hand once again, forcing him to look at him. "Perhaps once we have removed this little distraction of yours, you will be more cooperative."

"I wouldn't count on that, if I was you."

They'd separated Lise and Atin then, Shiv leading Lise away while Zayit was turned to the Haven teen. Lise shot a rather concerned look at Atin as she was lead away, glancing at him over her shoulder from the doorway.

* * *

The beeping had confused him at first and it had taken a full thirty-seconds before Rodas realized that it was coming from Atin's cell. He debated about whether or not to answer it, for all he knew it could be Atin sneaking a call from some mysterious outside source or, just as likely, someone from Haven.

"Hello?"

"Are you coming home yet?" Some girl who sounded vaguely familiar with that same slight Haven accent that Atin possessed. What if it was one of his old girls from Haven? What could he say? What if she was looking for a date… Or a booty call?

"Er…May I ask who I'm speaking to?"

A pause. A sigh. "Alright. Look, generic guy friend of Atin, put my twerp of a little brother on the phone."

"Ranovla." He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but as the name of Atin's sister came back to him, Rodas couldn't help speaking as the sense of relief washed over him. He wasn't dealing with a girlfriend. Family he could probably handle.

"Oh. I take it we're acquainted then."

They'd met briefly. Once. "Sort of? I'm Rodas from-"

"_Kras_. That little turd." Another pause, shorter. "Sorry. I meant that about him. I should have known he'd be out your way. Can you put him on, please?"

Rodas looked around as though he'd be able to find some sort of help from the walls of his room. They had no wisdom to offer him for the moment. Why did he get the joys of telling people the bad news? Didn't Atin's parents have connections to that organization that passed for a police force out there? "Um… About that… Atin's not here."

"'Cursors' sake. It's, what, three in the afternoon there? What can he possibly be doing at that hour?"

Rodas shook his head, despite the fact that she couldn't see him. "No, no. I mean, y'see, Atin and my sister went out last night. They seem to have been taken by the racing syndicate."

This time the pause from the other end of the phone was a long one. "Sorry. I think I misheard you. Did you just say that my brother's been kidnapped by a Kras City _gang_?"

Her brother and his sister. The two of them. Lise and Atin, both abducted just because Shane… Because Shane _what_? Because Shane was some kind of asshole that could be bought so easily?

"It's what seems to have happened. They didn't come back last night." Why couldn't he just commit and say that yes, that was definitely what had happened? The little voice in the back of his mind supplied another of its unwelcome answers. Rodas chose to ignore it.

Silence.

"Ranovla?"

"Oh my god."

He wanted to say something reassuring, but nothing came to him. It wasn't exactly easy to be reassuring when his own sibling was lost in the same situation. Was she panicking? He couldn't tell. Nothing seemed to fit. "Sorry" felt like a joke, "I'm sure it'll work itself out" was a blatant lie, so was "They'll be alright." He sighed into the phone. "I wish this hadn't happened."

"Yeah. So do I."

* * *

Zayit seemed like someone who had learned how to conduct interrogations based off of nothing more than watching old crime shows. His threats were laughable and his blows weak. Atin doubted that he'd even be bruised from this supposed interrogation. Generally creepy as Zayit might be, a serious interrogator, he was not. And, it turned out, making him aware of this fact was altogether too fun _not_ to exploit; it made him fumble all the more.

"Look, pretty boy, we can do this easy, or we can do it hard. I don't really care." Zayit had the collar of Atin's shirt fisted in one hand, half dragging him up from the chair he'd been crudely bound to.

Atin smirked. "Are you propositioning me? Cause there are definitely better ways to ask." Dry sarcasm, a surefire way to irritate the agitated Zayit.

The hardest blow yet. And the one most worth it, not to mention the least nonsensical out of the entire weak set. At least he knew what he'd done to cause that one, at least there was something in this whole bizarre world of abrupt captivity that he could still make sense of.

There was some kind of anger in Zayit's eyes, a scowl on his face and an angry tremor in his limbs. Atin arched his pierced eyebrow at him, waiting to see what he was about to do.

A slap across the face, forceful, but not enough to do any real damage. It was like Zayit was afraid to actually hurt him or something. Then again, considering what this place thought about people from Haven, there might actually be some truth to that theory. Except for the gleeful way that Zayit had helped Shiv with the capture...

Maybe he just really, really sucked at this whole thing.

"Why won't you crack?" Zayit demanded, shaking Atin by the shoulders. "_Why_?"

Atin wasn't sure if he was supposed to provide the answer to that question or not. Better to stay silent in this case probably.

Zayit was glaring again. "Shiv had better be getting more cooperation out of that girl."

Atin rolled his eyes, shaking his head hopelessly. "Look," he said, "whatever you think I'm up to, which by the way is _nothing_, no matter how you slice it, I wouldn't be including _her_."

"Why should I believe that?"

A shrug. "Maybe because everything else I've been telling you is true?" Atin flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Your call."

Minutes later, Zayit had left the room, muttering things under his breath about how they could expect _him_ to get any answers and this was more of Evike's jurisdiction anyway.

* * *

Rodas was on his third rum and whatever-else-happened-to-be-nearby, by the time his parents got home that evening. He didn't bother to ask where they'd been. From the haggard appearance of Virgil and the red eyes of his mother, it was easy enough to assume that they'd spent the day hunting for leads on Lise. More than he'd gotten done.

His mother called him for dinner. Rodas drained his glass and rose, heading into the kitchen.

The meal was an uninspired and relatively flavourless one, clearly having just been pulled together from the first quick thing that came to mind. Whitefish and potatoes… Definitely not one of his mother's more amazing dishes.

He pushed his dinner around on his plate, trying to ignore the dreadful, awkward silence that hung over them. It broke as his mother spoke up. "We never should have let her go with that boy. I didn't trust them going out together like that."

The already bland meal turned to ash in Rodas' mouth. What? He looked to his mother, hoping that maybe he'd managed to misunderstand the implication in her tone.

Virgil nodded slowly. His gaze fell on Rodas and, if possible, Rodas shrank further in on himself under his father's eyes. "I'd have much rathered if she'd been out with your friend Shane. I trust him far more than I should've trusted that _foreigner_."

Rodas barely managed to swallow. He pushed his plate away. They were blaming Atin. Atin who hadn't so much as touched Lise and were praising the bastard who was the reason that Lise was gone.

"Rodas?"

"I'm not hungry anymore." He rose, absently pushing in his chair. "I'll be in my room if you need me."

* * *

"What are you going to do? Try to sex my secrets out?" He suddenly wished that he hadn't thought to ask. Evike was looking at him in an almost predatory way and Atin was reminded of a particularly skin-crawling incident involving a bar and a woman old enough to be his mother. Eugh, cougars.

Evike chuckled. "Would it work?" she asked, running a finger along his jaw and leaning in close. "I'm sure you're love to get rid of a little pent up energy about now. What say you and I make a deal?"

She straddled his lap and pressed a hand to his chest, her other cupping his neck to pull him close. "You tell me what I want to know, and I'll see that you get some manner of satisfaction out of helping me."

Atin shifted his hips. Whether he was trying to dislodge her, or gain a more comfortable position, even he'd have been hard pressed to say.

She ground against his hips, leaning down to capture his lips in a hot, rough kiss, her teeth clicking against his lip ring. "Do we have a deal?"

There was a part of Atin that desperately wanted to say yes, to tell Evike that he'd do whatever she wanted, but he couldn't bring himself to actually say so. She kissed him again, the hand she'd placed on his chest moving to tease a nipple through his shirt.

A breathy sort of moan escaped Atin and he heard Evike chuckle. "I take that as a yes, then?" Her lips were on his neck by then, hot and enticing, biting and sucking at his skin hard enough to bruise. A hand slipped downwards, sliding between his legs, cupping-

"No dice." His hands had curled into fists, his nails scraped against the armrests as he struggled to clear his head.

"What?"

"No dice," he repeated, this time with more conviction. "I'm not going to tell you anything." Why was he acting like he actually knew something that they'd want to know? He was almost certain that he didn't.

"You sure about that?" Evike's lower hand tightened, squeezing him through the thin fabric of his cargos. He bucked against her hand, wanting to feel the hot friction she was offering and hating himself for the need to. She laughed again.

"_Teenagers_."

* * *

"The hell'd you get the hickey from?" Lise demanded as Atin was escorted back to the room they were being kept in. Whatever individual questions they'd asked her, if any, had evidently taken far less time than Evike had with him.

Atin raised a hand to cover the large, purpling bite mark on his neck. "Slightly rough interrogation."

"What happened? Get hit with a whore?"

"You could sort of say that." He wasn't in the mood for her banter, all he really wanted was a long, cold shower. A shower, and maybe, _just maybe_, to be on his way home, back to Haven where the world made sense. Atin took a seat on the floor and leaned back, running a hand through his hair, inky strands sliding through his fingers before flopping into his eyes once more.

"Sort of? Why the mopey look then? Not as good as you'd been hoping for?"

Home was definitely sounding good now. But they'd have to get out of this whole mess first and that was going to pose a challenge. He sighed. Trying to think of a way to get out of here felt beyond him at the moment.

"Atin, what's up with you right now?"

Atin's shrug was half shudder. "I feel dirty."

Lise moved closer then, got to her knees behind him and slipped her arms around him, burying her nose in the hair behind his right ear as she embraced him.

"What are you doing?"

"Hugging. Feel better?"

"Not particularly."

For a moment, Atin was certain that he'd felt her lips press to the back of his ear, but forced himself to dismiss the notion as ridiculous. Lise did not like him and, except for the fact that she had her arms around him at that exact moment, she _certainly_ did not just plant random kisses on him because he wasn't sure what to do with himself. He had to have imagined it. Still, she didn't seem to be showing any signs of letting go any time soon.

Atin cleared his throat.

"Are we sleeping together again tonight?"

Lise made a sort of snorting sound and he could feel her draw away slightly. "Depends."

"On what, exactly?"

"How cold I get."

Atin managed a laugh at that, turning to try and get a look at Lise. "You're ridiculous."

* * *

Back in his office, Razer was mulling over the events of the day. Something didn't add up. The boy had been so blatantly insistent that he knew nothing, and he had been surprised to hear of the brat's initial resistance to Evike. She claimed that he'd caved in, in the end, but she had failed - once again - to draw any useful information out of him.

She was losing her edge. And possibly her nerve. She'd assured him that she'd have the boy talking. That was twice now that she'd failed to do so. He doubted he'd have the patience to allow her the opportunity of a third failure.

He'd dismissed her, leaving the strong suggestion that her services might no longer be required. She hadn't had it in her to argue.

His pack of cigarettes lay amidst the clutter on top of his desk; he'd have to clear that off soon, it was getting embarrassing. He picked up the carton and drew one of the cigarettes out, examining it the dim light coming in through the window.

Maybe they were going about this wrong. Perhaps the boy was a warning more than a sign that Rayn was attempting to pull another power-play. It was a distinct possibility. He never had quite figured out the way that woman worked, not like Mizo or Krew who were almost laughably formulaic. No… She was brutal but not quite like either of their predecessors. There was something he was missing.

Fine. He'd play her games.

Razer pulled out his cell phone and flicked it open. It was picked up halfway through the second ring.

"Edje."

The man sounded confused, surprised at the abruptness of Razer's tone. "Yes, boss?"

"Find me Rayn. I'm getting to the bottom of this. Now."

* * *

Fillerish chapter is fillerish. The next chapter will be less so. Probably. I fully intend for stuff to happen in that one, as opposed to this one which is, really, a whole lot of everyone getting nowhere. Also, I should probably start working on getting Atin's parentage worked into this thing, since I'm pretty sure that people would actually like an answer to that.

Anyway, essays on Norse Mythology and mermaids and perverts need writing. No, that is not all one essay. No, I was not kidding about the perverts. I wish I was.

Until next time.


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